


I Am Skyward Locked

by urbosas_fury_is_ready_17 (The_Lynel_Reborn)



Category: Sherlock (TV), The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: F/M, dang motion controls, get some milk will you, the skull finally breaks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26517457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lynel_Reborn/pseuds/urbosas_fury_is_ready_17
Summary: Set between the Hounds of the Baskervilles and The Reichenbach Fall. Sherlock is bored, so he resorts to playing Skyward Sword. Hilarity ensues.
Relationships: Sherlock/Fi(total crack pairing
Kudos: 6





	I Am Skyward Locked

Sherlock would have kept shooting the wall. He had nothing better to do. He would have undoubtedly have kept shooting the wall, even if Mrs. Hudson had come into the living room and told him, point-blank, to stop. He would have kept shooting the wall even if Mrs. Hudson had tried to wrestle the gun out of his hands.Unfortunately, circumstances out of Sherlock's control intervened. Namely, he was out of bullets. In frustration Sherlock tossed the gun across the room and collapsed on the couch. When the gun hit the lamp and the lamp shattered, he ignored it.He had spent the two weeks since he had returned from the Dartmoor listening to case after uselessly boring case, and he was at his wit's end. His foot hit something shoved next to the couch in his attempt to recline. Grunting, he sat up and was ready to toss it aside. It was a white box, with a slot down the front. The logo on it said ''Wii.'' Lestrade had dropped it off some weeks ago, saying that he had no use for it and they might as well have it. After Lestrade had left, Sherlock had promptly proceeded to shove the white box and the small stack of discs that had been tied together with an elastic band aside, out of the way. In his boredom, however, he had shifted many things out of their original locations-Watson had objected wholeheartedly when it involved Sherlock's experiments winding up on his nightstand-so the Wii must have gotten moved in his frustrated regime. Something made Sherlock not toss it aside. He should have found it boring. He should have not wanted to plug it into the television, but yet he did.  
After it was hooked up, he rummaged through the room for the remote. After fifteen minutes of shifting aside various detitrius that had settled since the Baskervilles case, he finally located a rectangular prism shaped white remote.  
Sherlock was fascinated.Unfortunately he didn't have any disc in the machine. After ten more minutes, Sherlock had the stack of games attatched by rubber band in his grasp. The only question was-which one would he play? Wii Sports. A game no doubt designed to increase fitness. The thought of a forced workout brought a grimace to Sherlock's face. It sounded like something Mycroft would have forced on him after pronouncing ''You need more exercise, brother mine.'' Wii Fit Plus. That sounded even worse. It had Fit in the name. Wii Sports Resort. Likely a rehash of the first two. Not worth Sherlock's time. He was ready to give up when he came to the last case. It was shimmering gold foil, with some elvish bloke in green holding a sword emblazoned on it, front and center. Above the green elf were big, stylized red words that read:The Legend of Zelda:Skyward Sword. Sherlock nearly tossed it aside along with the Fit games. Nearly. But then before he did, he remembered what Watson had told him before he had went out to pick up groceries.''I know you won't listen to me, but will you please not destroy anything else while I'm gone,'' he had said, looking meaningfully at the overturned coffeepot while he had.  
Perhaps even Watson couldn't object to him playing these video games. It might occupy him until a decent case came along at any rate.  
**** Watson paused at the door to the flat. Inside he could clearly hear Sherlock grumbling about something. He had made himself absent for four hours. It hadn't taken him an hour to get the groceries; but he had taken a long stroll and had window shopped a great deal. It wasn't like Watson greatly enjoyed window shopping, and he hadn't even gotten anything. The truth was he was at his wits' end. If Sherlock didn't get a case soon...  
There was a colossal smash from the living room. It was followed by Sherlock's enraged bellows.''I'm swinging my sword the right way, you bloody teacher!!'' Watson sighed. It seemed that Sherlock had lost what little sanity he had. He resigned himself to opening the door and found his flatmate sitting on the couch surrounded by a sea of things that were not where they ought to have been, with his hair sticking out in various directions and holding a white remote in the air, inches away from the mantle. Watson noted that the skull was no longer on the mantle.  
On the screen was the view of the back of a teenage bloke in a white tunic with a sword in his hands standing in front of a log. As Sherlock wildly waved his arm-and there seemed to be no rhyme nor reason to the direction he waved in-the figure on the screen moved in sync.  
He must be playing some sort of video game, Watson thought to himself. He coughed, but Sherlock didn't hear. He waited. And waited. And waited. Sherlock's player was jumping across stepping stones over a rushing river when Watson said,''Sherlock. I'm home.'' Sherlock was waving wildly at a handful of evil bats when Watson tried again. ''Sherlock. I brought home sweets.'' Sherlock had just freed a massive red bird when Watson changed tactics. ''Sherlock. Lestrade has a new case. Triple murder.''  
Sherlock had just gone into the sky on said red bird when Watson upped the appeal factor. ''Sherlock. There's been a series of murders, all involving ex-bankers.'' Sherlock was following a glowing blue woman around in the pitch-dark night when Watson spoke again.  
''Sherlock. Irene Adler's just knocked on the front door.''Sherlock had entered an ancient temple in the belly of a statue of a benevolent woman when Watson played the trump card. ''Sherlock. Moriarty has been seen three times in the last hour.'' Sherlock was flying on the red bird again. Watson had another feeble stab at catching his attention. ''Sherlock. Moriarty's at the door.'' Sherlock did not flinch.Watson threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. He gave up. He had a date tonight, and he needed to get ready, not stand and watch Sherlock's futile attempts-from what bits of the story he had gathered-to rescue the green bloke's girlfriend.  
Watson had just finished putting away all the groceries and came into the living room. He was going to tell Sherlock that there was Indian takeout in the fridge for supper, but he was interrupted. ''It's evident this 'Kikwi' creature is hiding from her own kind as much as the monsters. In truth, she despises mingling with the other Kikwis, but she is too demure to tell the others this. And voila! These monsters appear, giving her the perfect excuse as to why she'll not stay with them. A simple, yet brilliant, method.''  
Watson's shoe stepped on a shard of something. There was no doubt now where the skull had ended up. Watson watched as Sherlock advanced into an eerie temple filled with glowing fungi. He had been checking his phone for the last forty-five minutes and decided he had to leave for his dinner.  
Watson pulled the plug on Sherlock's cozy gaming session by placing himself square in front of the TV.  
Before Watson could tell Sherlock that he was going, however, Sherlock made a loud complaint. ''Dear John, you seem to be obstructing my view of the improperly named Skyview Temple. How can I defeat these..what did the blue woman call them...Skulltulas when all you're doing is standing in my way?''  
Watson sighed heavily.  
“I recognize you’re engrossed in this game,” he snapped, “but I need to go, I have a date tonight-“  
“Is it the banker woman? You do realize she’s a recovering alcoholic?” Sherlock interjected quickly, leaning in his seat to try to get a better glimpse of the screen.  
Watson heaved another massive sigh. “No, we broke up two weeks ago-I’m sure I told you, but whether you listened is-Are you even listening to me now?”  
Sherlock snapped his head up to stare at Watson’s angry figure. “Of course,” he responded irritably. “Now if you could be ever so kind and get out of the way-“  
“When I came home today, the flat was in ruins,” Watson finished, raising his volume. “Sherlock, I want it to be at least slightly respectable when I get home-“  
“Of course, I’ll keep it clean or whatever you want, now can you shut your mouth (I can feel the street’s IQ threatening to dip) and move away from the telly? I have a girl to chase and she’s getting away. Though Link appears oblivious, she evidently has feelings for him.”  
Watson threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Fine. I’ll leave you to stew in this mess.”  
Sherlock let out a disdained huff when Watson revealed the telly again, and proceeded to dissect (or at least attempt to) a blue glowing mushroom.  
The door was open and Watson was perched on the brink of leaving when Sherlock called over his shoulder,  
“And can you please bring home some milk? I’m getting a craving for tea that isn’t black.”  
Watson rolled his eyes. “Yes, Sherlock.”

**Author's Note:**

> I may add some scenes to this story later, but don't expect regular updates as I have another Zelda story on the horizon that I need to start writing. Let me know if you like it!


End file.
